Inalienable: Book 7 of the Starstruck saga

by S E Anderson

  “Congratulations,” he said gravely.

  I turned to Zander, who held the same slack-jawed expression as his sister.

  “We’re free?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “We’re free.”

  He nodded again.

  And started to laugh.

  I leaped at his neck, hugging him with joy as he swung me around in the room with glee. He put me down, hugging his sister as well, smiling the entire time. Free at last.

  “Well,” he said to the crowd, “our work here is done.”

  “And it’s time for us to go,” Blayde said with a smirk. “Good luck reconstructing your government. Let us know if you need any tips.”

  ***

  Jumping had been as easy as walking through a door. No beacons. No Zanders from the past. Nothing to guide me but instinct alone. I breathed in deeply, the salty gulf air filling my lungs so completely that I felt like I was going to float away. The warm Florida winter air heated our skins, comforting me as I realized just how free the three of us were.

  “Where the frash are we?” asked Blayde, letting out a massive breath.

  “Home,” I replied, pointing across the street. There was my parents’ house, all lit up in the setting sun, the dimmest orange rays lingering on the horizon.

  “How …?” Zander’s hand held mine even tighter than I gripped his. “I don’t remember this moment. How did you bring us here?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. Through the window, I could see my parents settling down on the couch for popcorn and a movie. Had they been told about our escape from the Hill Institute yet? Had Foollegg managed to cover it up? “It just felt right. Like this is where we were meant to be next. The right time. The right place.”

  “You’re going to have to teach me to do this,” said Blayde, and I realize she hadn’t let go of my hand either. “I don’t know how you do it, Sally, but it’s impossible.”

  That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I didn’t realize how hard I had been shaking until my feet gave out beneath me and I collapsed on the sidewalk, burying my hands in the bloody drapes of my once-beautiful skirt.

  Oh god, the blood.

  “Sally!” Zander dropped to my side instantly, clutching both my shoulders and drawing me into his chest. I embraced the warmth, but only for a second. The smell on his chest was no longer the reassuring scent of him, but one of sweat, of blood, of death itself. I flew backward, jumping a whole ten meters up the street.

  “What?” he started.

  “Stay away from me,” I sputtered, pushing myself to my trembling feet. “You’re covered in death.”

  “We’ll go clean up, all right?” he said, reaching for me while keeping his safe distance. Blayde only watched, silent as the grave, staring at us with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “We can’t … I can’t go in there,” I spat. “Not like this. Not like … I’m a killer, Zander. I can’t go back to my family as a killer.”

  “You’re a hero,” he said, taking a tentative step toward me. “You saved lives today. So many lives.”

  “Did I, though?” I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. They were trembling so hard I thought my tendons would snap. I wrapped them around my skirt, but when I touched the gore again, I found myself ripping off the silk entirely. “They killed everyone, Zander. All those guests. Each other. Rebels killing rebels over the same freaking cause. I couldn’t save anyone.”

  “Even if you saved one person, it was worth standing up to them,” he insisted, his hand still outstretched. “And you saved everyone in the end. I couldn’t have done what you did with Barshook.”

  “I saved a building,” I said, kicking my soiled skirts into a storm drain for the gators to devour. “I saved a president who only pardoned us because there was a camera on him. Instead of admitting centuries of fabricated crimes, he pardoned you for things you never did.”

  “You saved Kork; you saved Sekai. You saved all those people who weren’t even grateful enough give us their names.”

  “And killed how many in the process?” I fell back on my ass and let the tears start flowing. Zander stepped forward, and I flinched again.

  “Let me help you,” he begged. “Please. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

  “Right. Because painless is what you do,” I sputtered. “How many people did you kill tonight, hm?”

  He didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure if he was even trying to do the math. If he was even able to.

  “You don’t even know. You don’t even know.”

  The tears were flowing freely now, running down my face and through the sticky mess I could still feel there.

  “You don’t get to lecture us,” spat Blayde. “This was all your idea! You wanted to save your planet! Well, did you think there wouldn’t be a cost? You might sleep better at night thinking the bloodshed is on our hands, not yours, but we were there for you. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

  “No … not like this.”

  “I tried warning you,” she continued. “But you just kept insisting. You were just dead set on tearing down the Alliance and getting your world back. Well, guess what? People don’t like it when you mess with what they think is theirs. You thought the fight for Earth would be bloodless? Well, look at you. You managed to get a seat at the table without a single Terran life lost. Whoop-de-doo. You should be thanking us.”

  “Blayde,” said Zander, “enough.”

  “We warned you time and time again, Sally. You knew who we are and what we do. You knew who you were throwing your lot in with. We don’t topple civilizations as a parlor trick.”

  I stared at my feet, coated a murky brown from our barefoot run through the carnage. Carnage I had partially been responsible for. Maybe entirely responsible for. But, no, I had not brought rebels down upon the Alliance’s head.

  I wanted freedom for my planet. Was that too much to ask?

  “Now you know,” she said. “So, you either suck it up or say your goodbyes right now.”

  The sun had set now, streetlights flickering on to line the street. Waves crashed on the beach behind me, bringing me down to reality, anchoring me here in the now.

  I looked up at Zander, his face distorted by viscera. He was a different man than the one who had driven me to the ball. He was a different man who had admitted his love to me on this very beach, just two, three weeks ago. A lifetime ago.

  Accepting what he was felt different now. I had seen him take a life before, but never like this. Each time, I could pinpoint the exact reason that person had needed to die: to save more lives. It was a fair trade for peace, continued existence. Wasn’t that exactly what we’d just done, back in the hall? Just on a much grander scale?

  “I need … I need a philosopher, I think,” I stammered. “I don’t know what to think about what I just saw.”

  “It’s the very definition of a traumatic experience,” said Zander, and I reached for his hand. He breathed out in sweet relief. “You don’t have to process it all at once.”

  “You do need to wash, though,” said Blayde. “You smell like death.”

  “Too soon,” Zander hissed. “Come. The beach is right here. Beats spreading the trauma to your family.”

  We rushed into the waves, divested ourselves of our once-elegant clothes, our underclothes clinging to our skin as we dove into the water. I broke the surface of the ocean, my ocean, the water of my world.

  I crawled out of the water, clean and sticky with salt, wishing for anything other than my gory dress to put back on. Though I suppose there were worse things than showing up on a parents’ porch severely under-stressed after escaping an asylum.

  What had they been told about that?

  “We need a convincing cover story,” I said, staring at the house, all lit up for the night.

  “Hey, so long as you don’t start advertising off-world products to your parents, anything will work,” said Zander. I turned to face him, staring into those beautiful e
yes, wondering if I would ever forget what I’d watched him do.

  Kissing him felt like coming home, but to a house you no longer recognized. Warm and inviting, but with secret additions you had never noticed before.

  I didn’t have to accept him all at once. Just bit by bit, step by step, making sense of the lifetime I’d lived in a night.

  “I got a new translator,” I said, as calmly as I could muster, which ended up being me awkward laughing and sputtering in Zander’s arms. “Future Me gave it to me.”

  “Future You?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Apparently, I look after myself,” I replied. “It’s called practicing self-care.”

  He laughed, kissing the top of my forehead, his soft lips turning the skin warm, and I sunk into his arms, letting the sheer relief of being alive rush over me.

  “Ready?” he asked, nudging me toward the house.

  “Ready,” I replied.

  I expected my parents to be relieved when they saw me. I expected them to reach for me and tell me everything was all right. They must have heard the news about the institute at the very least. If I was lucky, the Alliance pardon had already reached its way here, and I would be free of Foollegg’s threats too.

  I didn’t expect the tears.

  The world was thrown upside down as I was grabbed forcefully around the waist and suddenly wrapped in an intense hug, a hug with tears that fell heavily into my hair.

  I didn’t realize I was crying, too, until I tried to speak.

  “Don’t you ever run off like that again, understood?” Mom ordered, grabbing me so tight I probably wouldn’t have survived it if I weren’t immortal. I hugged her back with enough force to crush a mountain.

  My dad came next—my bearded dad?—trying to hold back his tears as well, though failing miserably. I sobbed into his shoulder, overwhelmed with the sudden reassurance of a father’s embrace. As he pulled away, there were no words. None were needed.

  But he pulled away further, staring along with my mother at Zander and Blayde, who were still frozen on the threshold. A silence fell upon the room as both parties looked each other down, unsure of how the other would react. And with a sudden jerk, my father lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Zander and patting him across the back in a kind and reassuring manner. Following in his footsteps, my mother stepped forward to embrace Blayde, who, surprisingly, let it happen, smiling as she returned the hug, though confused all the same.

  “I like the beard,” I said, staring more intently at my dad. “Have you been taking hair-growth stuff? I mean … that’s a magnificent beard to have grown so quickly.”

  His eyebrow achieved liftoff and was halfway to orbit when he reeled it back in. “Quickly?”

  It was only then that I saw the gray in his hair, more than he had had when we’d said our goodbyes outside the courtroom.

  It was then that I saw the living room had been changed: a wall repainted blue, the pictures different from when we’d left them, and I was oh so sure the cops hadn’t left a dent when they’d arrested me.

  “Hold on. What the hell?” I stammered.

  “Did you get the date wrong?” asked Blayde. “I retract what I said earlier. Maybe you shouldn’t be driving.”

  Except the date was exactly right; I had been so sure. My head started to spin, counting back, counting forward, connecting the lines of space to time and time to space until it became so clear and evident I would either burst out crying or laughing. Either way, there were going to be tears.

  I fished my phone out of my pocket. Of course it didn’t have any new messages. I hadn’t paid the bill in years.

  The only message that mattered was the one that swam into my mind, pulled back from the dregs of memory, from when Future Me confided it to a past Meedian.

  Five. Years. Early.

  “We’re back at the right time,” I said, my voice so dry it chapped my lips. “The exact moment when we were granted our pardon. But that took place a week after we saved the Traveler. Which … was three years after Da-Duhui.”

  “I think you might need to sit down,” said Mom.

  “One second, Laurie.” Zander gave her hand a tight squeeze, turning back to me. “Da-Duhui, which took place two years after we saved Sekai.”

  “So, you’re saying we didn’t miss the mark,” said Blayde. “We’re just …”

  “You escaped the Hill Institute three years ago,” said Dad. “You’ve been missing for three years.”

  Sally’s story continues in:

  Coming late Fall 2021

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  OTHER BOOKS BY S.E. ANDERSON

  Starstruck Saga

  Starstruck

  Alienation

  Traveler

  Celestial

  Starbound

  Earthstuck

  Inalienable

  Head over Heels (Starstruck Halloween Short)

  Lasers and Tiaras (Suburban Starstruck story)

  Starstruck Short Stories

  Head Over Heels

  Lasers and Tiaras

  Other Novels

  Aix Marks the Spot

  Novellas

  Miss Planet Earth (Pew! Pew! - The Quest for More Pew!)

  The Horrible Habits of Humans (Pew! Pew! - Bite My Shiny Metal Pew!)

  Miss Planet Earth and the Amulet of Beb Sha Na

  Study Night at The Museum (Unbound: Stories of Transformation,

  Love, and Monsters)

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  It seems impossible to thank everyone who needs thanking for this book. Once again, I couldn’t have done it alone, and this year brought so many new challenges none of us could have anticipated.

  First of all, to my brilliant editors, Michelle, Anna, and Cayleigh. You’ve turned my drafts into readable (dare I say utterly enjoyable?) books time and time again and I couldn’t thank you enough. For your council, your dedication, and especially for believing in me. Thank you for helping me bring these characters to life.

  To Jenny, for letting me pick her brain about how court procedure is meant to go, so that I could take it off the rails. You are amazing and the work you do changes lives.

  To my incredible parents who helped me through the terrible isolation and confusion these lockdowns have brought. I can always count on you, and that brings me so much joy. I could not have written this book in the headspace I was in that lonely month of quarantine, you gave me a sanctuary where I could recharge and create. I also have to thank Penny and Bertie for their constant love and affection. Not that they can read this, being dogs, but I’m sure they know the thanks is there.

  Massive, massive, immensely massive thank you to Cora, who gave me feedback on the chapters as they went, keeping me sane during the process. I can’t wrap my head around how I’ve made such an incredible friend who I can count on entirely. I truly could not have done this without you.

  Thank you to the brilliant Denise Kawaii for her keen eye and precious feedback, without whom I probably would have done far more screaming into the void.

  To my writing buddies Madeline, Lisa, Emily, and Heidi, who have helped me grow so much as a writer and keep me in awe of everything that they do. I wanna be like you!

  To Hugo, for his endless enthusiasm, tireless support, and perfect partnership. Thank you for responding to every one of my strange, out of context texts, and inspiring me with your

  lovable humor.

  And finally, to you, dear reader. We made it through a strange and terribl
e year. We’re still going. We’re still here. I’m still writing these books and you’re still reading them. I wouldn’t be here without you. Thank you.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  S.E. Anderson can’t ever tell you where she’s from. Not because she doesn’t want to, but because it inevitably leads to a confusing conversation where she goes over where she was born (England) where she grew up (France) and where her family is from (USA) and it tends to make things very complicated.

  She’s lived pretty much her entire life in the South of France, except for a brief stint where she moved to Washington DC, or the eighty years she spent as a queen of Narnia before coming back home five minutes after she had left. Currently, she goes to university in Marseille, where she’s studying Physics and aiming for a career in Astrophysics.

  When she’s not writing, or trying to science, she’s either reading, designing, crafting, or attempting to speak with various woodland creatures in an attempt to get them to do household chores for her. She could also be gaming, or pretending she’s not watching anything on Netflix.

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